Swords, Spells, and Heroes
by Wingd knight
Summary: A three-way crossover: Justice League Cartoon/Wizards of Waverly Place/Fate Stay Night franchise. Shiro is reborn as Justine Russo and can't stand by when the world needs a hero no matter what rules are imposed on wizards.


**I really just wanted to post a story on the last day of the year, and I will likely post another NEW story on the first day of the year, just because I can and kind of want the time stamp. Don't expect these two to be updated regularly. Hero's Duty is still getting primary attention. Until then, still enjoy this and let me know what you think.**

The alarm clock went off at four thirty in the morning, just like it did every week day, its loud beeping being cut off a mere second after it began by the long occupant of the bedroom the clock resided in. Justine Russo climbed out of his comfortable bed silently, rubbing the back of his neck as he took stock of what needed to be done that day. He had an hour and a half before the rest of his family woke up which gave him just enough time to do his primary workout and martial training and make breakfast for everyone though he'd have to do his cardio after school. After his education and homework was squared away he would have to complete his two hour shift at the family subshop before finally being free to go on his run. By that point it would be about six thirty and he'd be free to focus on one of his hobbies or other points of study. '_I miss not having school.' _the teen sighed, already dropping to the floor to begin his workout. Even sixteen years since he was snatched from death's embrace by Zelretch and told he was going to be a part of the Dead Apostle's future form of entertainment the soul and mind of Shirou Emiya still had some occasional troubles with his new life even beyond having mind of a much younger man.

For one the magic of the world he found himself in was downright _insane, _being capable of nearly anything without any form of restriction save for personal control of the wizard's magic, the absence of powerful magnetic fields, and for some reason plastic. The fact that the magic side of reality had their own sub-dimension nearly sent the now named Justin into a shock induced coma. The only saving grace for his sanity was that for all their diverse abilities the raw expressed power of these wizards was essentially the same as the average of his first world. No blowing up islands with ease, no summoning the souls of ancient warriors without extensive prep and luck or ever really, true dimension hoping and manipulation was seemingly non-existent, time travel was limited in how far back or forward one could go, and any items summoned were weak and always non-magical. Well, summoned items not created by Justin himself. It appeared his mastery of his limited forms of magecraft had come to this new world with him and had taken very little time to relearn how to use with his modified magic. Turns out even a mental reset couldn't cure him of his distortion. Not that he was complaining, he liked his Tracing and apparently the magic system of this world didn't get nerfed if the caster was an Incarnation, probably because of the weird power circuits that are kept separate from the actual wizards.

The magic really made no sense here.

Of course having near one hundred years of memories, most of which were about time spent as a magic research assistant and guardian of humanity, even without the corresponding maturity, meant he would stand out in at least a few ways. He was viewed as a nerd and a know it all by most, and his general dislike of overly childish things had left him with few friends though the ones that he did have were all good and loyal. Things might have been easier growing up if his parents didn't insist he remain with his apparent age group in school but without Justin telling them the truth of who he used to be they would never know that their hopes of giving him a more normal childhood was for naught. '_Kind of went out the window with the whole being a part of a family of wizards thing.'_ he joked to himself, finishing the last of his exercises and making his way toward the bathroom to shower. '_And having Alex and Max for siblings doesn't help matters.'_ Don't get him wrong, he cared deeply for his siblings, but there was no denying that Max had to have at least one major mental disorder and Alex had a far from ideal personality. Seriously the fact that Max hadn't been held back several years and Alex had never been kicked out of school or arrested was a miracle nearly on par with their magical abilities.

Any further contemplation of his unique personal and familial situations were cut off when a mental voice that was definitely _not his own _rang out through his head, nearly causing him to drop the towel he was drying off with, '_Help me… they are here… help…' _ Startled the teen quickly spun around the room, reinforcing his body enough that he could punch through a brick wall with ease and pulling up the image of a roman gladius in his mind to trace, but there was nothing there. It really had been all in his head. '_Telepathy without line of sight isn't possible with wizard magic, and I didn't smell any besides. Who was that? A metahuman?' _He knew metas were becoming more and more common over the past century, the cause a large and tangled debate, but he knew they were still quite rare, one in roughly a million in fact if not less. So if the voice had been one they'd have to have quite the range because he was damn near positive there weren't any on Waverly Place or the surrounding neighborhoods.

For several minutes Justin didn't move, his arteries glowing like his circuits used to with the magic he was pumping through his body and his ears and mind straining for any evidence of a voice like had just invaded his mind. It took a while but the former warrior eventually became confident that what or whoever was the source of the voice was gone or at the very least quite for the time being and relaxed. He was a bit concerned about what the mentally projected voice said, but as much as his long ingrained hero complex pushed him to find the source and save them he really didn't have any clue where he would even start to look. All he could do was hope the voice reached out again and he could find out where to go.

Exhaling angrily the young wizard threw on his clothes for the day and stalked silently to the kitchen. At least that never changed throughout his lives, having to sneak through his own house in the morning to make enough food to fill the stomaches of hungry and cranky family members. His dad in particular could get pretty irritable without food.

Moving around the kitchen in an unfocused daze Justin couldn't help the vapid anticipation that encased his mind. The promise of a fight, of conflict, it called out to him. It had been far too long since he had actually been in a real fight. Sure he had had some spars with a few lesser vampires and lycans in the wizard world, took part in some archery contests with some elves, but he was the Sword of Akasha the living embodiment of the very concept of swords and to a lesser extent blades, weapons, and armor. He existed to be a part of battle and war even as he wished for both to end forever.

"What's on your mind sweetie?" A voice, verbal this time, cut through his thoughts. It was Theresa, the only one in his immediate family that never did and probably never would have magic. She must have seen the look on his face.

"The inherent duality and incompatibility of being a hero and the desires of a true one." He told her somewhat honestly.

"Ah." The physically older woman nodded, "is… is this about the global disarmament that Superman pushed through?"

Justin scowled. "That was a stupendously stupid move. It makes the entire world dependent on Superman and the other supers for any threat that is bigger than street level. Like the Flash said, no one can be everywhere at once."

"Well with all those weapons gone that means that those kinds of threats will be pretty rare." She points out.

"No, it means that the officials no longer have the ability to push the button. Private groups, geniuses that are so inclined, villians, black market dealers, and shadow organizations no doubt have their own supplies." He explained with a shake of his head, putting a plate with a large stuffed omelette in front of his mother. "Superman let his idealism cloud his better judgment and sooner or later someone is going to pay for it."

"Pay for what? Did your sister ask you for money again? Because I told her if she wants more than what we agreed on for her allowance she has to get a job." That was his father Jerry. From what Justin learned thanks to his Structural Grasping Jerry had been an incredibly skilled wizard with above average access and control to his own power, only to give up his powers so that he could marry Theresa.

Shaking his head the archer turned his focus back to the stove where another omelette was already cooking. "No Alex didn't ask me for money. Mom and I were just talking about Superman forcing the planet wide disarmament of high grade missiles and explosives."

The former wizard blinked, "Oh. Well its a nice idea you got to give the man that, but unless he plans on going around every few weeks to stare down every defence officer he can find and take their country's stuff it won't last."

Justin nodded silently in agreement with his father and out a second omelette in front of him. As a former and hopefully future hero Justine didn't like the idea of using or even having the many armaments that the Kyrptonian had rounded up, but he was aware of their uses and need in the modern world. Granted he was still a firm believer that swords, bows, spears, and fists were the best means of combat, the elegance, skill, personal impact, and dedication of them being a large part of his viewpoint, but he knew that most disagreed. You shouldn't bring a gun to a knife fight and all that… well most shouldn't anyway.

Deciding that the topic had gone on as long as it probably could before an argument insued Justin decided to quickly change the subject. "What will our next lesson be about?" He asked his father, clearly referring to the magic lessons that the older man gave Justin and his two siblings once a week.

"I'm thinking duplication." Jerry told him in between bites of his breakfast. "They aren't great, what's done to the clone has a big impact on the original body and it can't really act independently, but it can have its uses."

Justin raised an eyebrow at that. What use could a clone have if it could not act and was physically linked to the original? It seemed like all it would be good for is setting up an alibi and even that only if you had the clone positioned as if it were asleep so that noone would notice the lack of action. A useless spell. He'd much rather learn about time manipulation or teleportation. Hopefully such lessons would come soon.

Actually, while he had his father here. "Hey dad, you said that telepathy is only possible with line of sight right?"

Jerry blinked at the strange question, "If the caster is good yes. Usually it takes eye contact. Though there are examples of those who maintain the spell with a single target over long periods to be able to work around those limits to a degree. Why?"

The incarnation shook his head slightly. "No real reason, just wanted to make sure I was remembering your lessons right." So it definitely wasn't wizard magic that had caused the voice he had heard earlier. '_I know I'm not schizophrenic or anything, my distortion prevents any kind of further mental illness, so that means it had to have been a meta or a different type of magic user. No, I didn't and still don't smell any unfamiliar magic auras so magic definitely wasn't involved.' _His fist clenched and his heart began to beat just a bit faster. A war was coming, he could feel it in his soul.

Was it bad that he was excited?

**I picked this one with dice rolls and coin flips as I did with the story that will be posted tomorrow. Again, let me know what you think.**


End file.
